


Snapshots of You and I

by DanaWPatterson



Series: Snapshots & Tattoos [1]
Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-13 18:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14753873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanaWPatterson/pseuds/DanaWPatterson
Summary: Tasha was late. She'd gotten tied up doing paperwork for Keaton, and she was blowing it with Patterson. It was exactly six months since they'd gotten together at Jane and Weller's wedding, and she was exactly 47 minutes and 33 seconds late for their anniversary dinner. She'd texted but knew Patterson was annoyed. The single word "fine" in response to her excuse spoke volumes. It wasn't fine. Tasha knew that. She'd known Patterson for nearly a decade. Fine never meant fine.





	1. It's Fine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multi-chapter effort. I'm putting the aforementioned "snapshots" into their own chapters but I don't know how many chapters this will wind up at. Right now, I think there are at least five but possibly more.
> 
> I've based this off an interesting idea raised by the wonderful Zatterson in "Better for Both of Us." I'm picking it up from the relationship I tossed together in my previous fic, "Ricocheted," using some of the time jump to develop the relationship, and then honoring the time jump and the team's split. It's sometimes sweet and other times sad and ugly. Sorry, not sorry. - DWP

Tasha was late. She'd gotten tied up doing paperwork for Keaton, and she was blowing it with Patterson. It was exactly six months since they'd gotten together at Jane and Weller's wedding, and she was exactly 47 minutes and 33 seconds late for their anniversary dinner. She'd texted but knew Patterson was annoyed. The single word "fine" in response to her excuse spoke volumes. It wasn't fine. Tasha knew that. She'd known Patterson for nearly a decade. Fine never meant fine.  

She hurried past the restaurant's large front window and saw her girlfriend sitting alone, a nearly empty glass of Bulleit in her hand and a frown on her face that seemed to deepen by the minute. Patterson was pissed. Tasha needed to fix this situation ASAP. She walked past the restaurant's door and stopped at the flower stand in front of a neighboring bodega. She scanned the buckets of cut flowers.  

"Looking for something special?" an older Hispanic woman asked her. "Roses, perhaps?" 

"Sunflowers," Tasha said. "All of them. As many as you have." 

The vendor smiled and gestured to a nearby bin. 

"I have three dozen —" 

"Perfect. I'll take all of them," Tasha interrupted. "Do you have a ribbon or something you can put around them? And I need to find a card..." 

The florist produced a small paper card and flashed a knowing smile. "You're in trouble," she said. "Late for something?" 

"Anniversary," Tasha said by way of explanation, taking a pen from her purse and carefully printing a message on the card. "I got caught at work and I'm super late now. And probably in tons of trouble." 

The bouquet of sunflowers the florist produced was tied in a beautiful purple ribbon, and it was by far the largest bunch of sunflowers Tasha had ever seen. They were Patterson's favorite flower and by extension, Tasha's favorite as well. They made her girlfriend smile and that was all Tasha needed. She quickly paid and thanked the vendor before ducking into the restaurant. She spoke quietly to the maître d and handed him the bouquet and a $20 bill. She walked through the restaurant, took a seat at the bar, and ordered red wine as she watched the host approach Patterson's table with the flowers. Patterson started to protest the delivery and then accepted them with a reluctant and embarrassed sigh. Tasha waited for her to begin reading the card before approaching. 

"I mean that, you know," she said as she sat down. "And I'm so, so sorry." 

"The most beautiful woman in every room?" Patterson asked, looking up from the oversized bouquet. "I bet you say that to all the girls."  

"Well, yeah, but only the ones I'm sleeping with," Tasha smiled and winked. "I mean it though." 

Patterson returned the smile but it was forced. Tasha saw the effort Patterson used to put it on and she felt a pang of guilt. She and Patterson had been so happy but Tasha was messing it up lately.  

"Patterson, I am so unbelievably sorry," she apologized, leaning across the table and taking the blonde's hand. "Keaton had this stack of paperwork and I'm new on the team and I... I should have tried to get out of it. I'm sorry. Do you want to go? We can go." 

Patterson shook her head and set the flowers in an empty chair. This wasn't the time or the place to start a fight. And Tasha's apology seemed genuine. Patterson remembered when she was new at the FBI and all the long hours she clocked and the number of dinners and parties she'd been late for or missed entirely. She needed to cut her a little slack.  "Are you kidding? I'm starving and you can't cook. Besides, it's our anniversary. I want to have dinner with you." 

Tasha smiled and relaxed a bit. She placed a light kiss on her girlfriend's lips. The problem wasn't solved but she was now sure that Patterson wasn't going to let it ruin the evening. She picked up her menu and scanned it quickly as a waiter approached. She didn't care what she ate, so long as she got to be with Patterson.  


	2. Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I like stars," Tasha said simply, remembering the clue that brought the team to Aldebaran Antiques in search of Patterson. She scanned the artificial night sky. "This is perfect. You are perfect. I love you."

"I didn't know you were into blindfolds, P," Tasha teased as Patterson slipped a black blindfold down over her eyes. "I could really work with this." 

Patterson waved a hand in front of Tasha's face.  

"What are you doing?" Tasha asked. She felt a slight breeze as the scientist's hand passed by her face. "I can't see, if that's what you're wondering." 

"Good," Patterson replied. She grabbed Tasha's hand and led her away from Central Park and carefully across the busy street and around the block to West 81st Street.  

The official hours posted in front of the American Museum of Natural History showed that the museum had been closed for hours. A security guard stood just to the right of the front door with a clipboard.  

"Stay," Patterson commanded, stopping Tasha a few feet away.  

"Where am I gonna go, Patterson? I can't see anything!" Tasha protested. 

Patterson hurried over to the guard and spoke with him quietly for a few minutes, showing her ID and a confirmation receipt. The guard checked a clipboard and nodded before unlocking the door and radioing to someone inside. A man in a carefully tailored suit approached Patterson and held out his hand. He started to speak but she put a finger over her lips. 

"Shh," she whispered. "It's a surprise. I don't want her to know anything until we're there." 

"I understand," the man replied just as quietly, and then turned towards Tasha, speaking loudly. "If you'll both follow me then." 

Patterson returned to Tasha's side and grabbed her hand again, lacing their fingers together. She kissed her cheek. She felt her own excitement bubbling up. She'd worked hard on arranging this surprise, and she was certain Tasha would love it.

"Come on," she said and guided Tasha through the museum's entrance. Patterson followed their guide silently, their footsteps echoing on the polished marble floors. She wondered if Tasha knew where they were or had any ideas. They ascended a steel and glass staircase and curved around a winding rampway before coming to a stop in front of a set of double doors. Their guide flicked a switch and nodded to Patterson, holding the doors open for her and allowing the couple to step inside the giant sphere.  

The Hayden Planetarium was empty and dark. Patterson carefully guided Tasha to a row of large theater chairs near the back of the room and helped her sit. She lifted the blindfold away. Tasha blinked a few times and allowed her eyes to adjust. It was just as dark in the theater as it was behind the blindfold.  

"A movie theater?" she asked, looking around.  

Patterson shook her head and smiled. She cupped Tasha's face with both hands and kissed her deeply.  

"I love you," she said. "Happy birthday." 

The planetarium's dark ceiling started to take on a blue hue and pinpoints of light pricked through. The night sky materialized overhead and the Taurus constellation appeared.  

"Oh, Patterson," Tasha began. She was at a loss for words and felt herself welling up. "Taurus..." 

"Aldebaran," Patterson replied, her own tears threatening to spill out. She took Tasha's hand again and turned in her seat to face her. "Jane found me that day because of you." 

"I like stars," Tasha said simply, remembering the clue that brought the team to Aldebaran Antiques in search of Patterson. She scanned the artificial night sky. "This is perfect.  _You_  are perfect. I love you." 

She kissed her and leaned her head against the blonde's shoulder as they stared into the sky. The vibration of Tasha's cellphone interrupted the silence. Tasha fished it from her purse and checked the screen: Keaton.  

Patterson saw the name on the caller ID and pulled away. 

"Answer it," she said, sensing Tasha's dilemma.  

"No," Tasha said. "I don't —" 

"You should answer it," Patterson repeated.  

Tasha studied her girlfriend for a moment and then answered the phone.  

"Keaton?...Can it wait?" A sigh. "Okay. No, it's okay. I'll be there." 

She disconnected the call and stared at the phone for a minute.  

"Let me guess," Patterson said. Ice had crept into her voice. "You have to go." 

Tasha nodded. "I leave for Berlin in the morning." 

"Tomorrow?" 

Another nod.  

"How long will you be gone this time?" 

Tasha licked her lips nervously. "A few days, a week." 

"Which is it? A few days or a week?" Patterson asked. She felt sick. Lately Tasha was gone more than she was home.  

"A week," Tasha admitted quietly. "I'm sorry, Patterson. I don't want to ruin this. This has been amazing, and tonight has been so perfect." 

Patterson glanced at her watch. It was just after 9 p.m. She chewed her lip for a minute. She didn't like the idea of Tasha leaving again but there was nothing she could do about it. She leaned back against Tasha.  

"Well, you don't leave yet. We still have tonight," she said, returning her gaze to the night sky.  


	3. Shades of Gray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were a lot of details Tasha couldn't share with Patterson due to the nature of her new job, but she absolutely couldn't share the details of her latest assignment. It'd take a lot to figure it all out, but if anyone would be able to connect the dots between Mumbai and the CIA's newest agent, it'd be Patterson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to roll Chapter 4 out today as well. -DWP

Tasha was packing yet another suitcase for yet another trip. Hong Kong. Or at least that's what she'd told Patterson. She'd given her girlfriend the wrong details for her last four trips. She wasn't proud of it but she couldn't tell her where she was actually going. There were a lot of details Tasha couldn't share with Patterson due to the nature of her new job, but she absolutely couldn't share the details of her latest assignment. It'd take a lot to figure it all out, but if anyone would be able to connect the dots between Mumbai and the CIA's newest agent, it'd be Patterson. And that would be very bad.  

"I'm sorry about your daughter, Joel, but I have lost people too." 

Tasha heard Patterson's voice from the living room and stopped packing. It sounded like Patterson was talking to her but something was  _off_  about it. She stepped into the hallway and looked towards the living room. The blonde was sitting cross-legged on the couch holding a video game controller, her attention on the screen.  

"Babe?" Tasha called. "You say something?" 

Patterson paused her game and looked up. 

"Hmm? No, that was the game," she said, gesturing towards the TV set where the image of a 14-year-old girl carrying a backpack was frozen in mid-sentence.  

Tasha walked into the living room and sat down on the couch beside Patterson. She wasn't that interested in video games but Patterson loved them. She didn't recognize this one.  

"What game is this?" she asked. 

" _The_   _Last of Us_ ," Patterson replied. "It's an apocalypse-type game. But instead of zombies, they're these mutants called Runners and Clickers. It's super fun."  

She unpaused the game and the game's cutscene continued to play.  

"You have no idea what loss is," the male character said. He reminded Tasha a little bit of Weller.  

"Everyone I have cared for has either died or left me. Everyone," the on-screen teenager continued, shoving the male character hard, "fucking except for you!" 

Tasha reached across Patterson's body and paused the game again.  

“That girl sounds just like you," she said incredulously. "Temper and everything." 

“You're crazy.” 

“You don't hear that?” 

Patterson shook her head.  “Um, no?” 

Tasha pushed play again and let the cutscene continue. 

"So, don't tell me that I would be safer with someone else, because the truth is I would just be more scared." 

She pushed pause again. 

"Seriously? You don't hear that?" 

"No," Patterson said. "Not at all. Sorry, Tash." 

Tasha sighed and leaned back on the couch. She couldn't believe Patterson couldn't hear how much that character sounded like her. Patterson restarted the game, her face darkening slightly as she controlled the male character and started shooting at men that were charging into a house.  Once she'd cleared the level she paused the game again and set the controller down on the table. She turned to face the brunette. 

"So, Hong Kong?" 

Tasha nodded. "Um, yeah. Hong Kong." 

"How long this time?"  

"Just a few days," Tasha admitted. She fully expected to be back in New York within three days. This was just a quick trip.  

Patterson checked her watch. It was just after 8 p.m. "When do you leave?" 

"My flight leaves at 6 a.m." 

Patterson nodded and considered this. "So, I won't see you in the morning." 

"I'll wake you up before I go if you want," Tasha said. It wouldn't be hard. Patterson was a notoriously light sleeper. She was the only person Tasha had ever met who slept with a mask over her eyes. The first few times she'd spent the night, Tasha had woken her up just getting out of bed to get a glass of water.  

"Yes, please." 

Tasha was up at 3:30 a.m. She was scheduled to be onboard a private military CIA jet leaving from McGuire AFB at 6 a.m. Keaton would pick her up at her apartment so they could travel downtown for their chartered 35-minute Blackhawk ride to Trenton. She'd told him she'd meet him outside. He knew Tasha was living with Patterson, but she'd kept the full extent of their relationship from him. As far as he knew, or rather as far as she knew that he knew, Patterson and Tasha were simply best friends and roommates. She glanced at the alarm clock on her girlfriend's bedside table. Keaton would be there in 15 minutes.  

She watched the steady rise and fall of Patterson's chest and an overwhelming sense of dread swept over Tasha. She had to go and she had to lie about her op, but she hated the idea of leaving Patterson behind again. She loved her more than she'd ever loved anyone. 

Tasha smoothed the rumpled comforter on her own side of the bed and laid down on top of it. She scooted up behind Patterson, spooning her, and wrapped her arms around her. She nuzzled into Patterson's neck and pushed away the blonde hair, placing a small kiss just below her ear. She heard Patterson give an involuntary sigh and relax back against her.  

"Babe, I have to go," Tasha whispered.  

"Hong Kong," Patterson said, her voice still thick with sleep.  

"Yeah, Hong Kong," Tasha replied. She kissed Patterson's neck again. "I'll be back in three days." 

Patterson didn't reply. She brought her hands to Tasha's arms and pulled them tighter around her as if this would be enough to keep her here. This was Patterson's least favorite thing about their relationship. Tasha traveled nearly once a week and most of the time she didn't return for days.  

"Stay," she said finally.  

Tasha kissed Patterson's neck again and looked over at the clock again.  

"Just a few more minutes," she said.  

*** 

Tasha was coming back from Hong Kong today. That's all Patterson could think about and, admittedly, she was distracted. That was probably why she'd mismeasured at least three chemicals already this morning and had to start her tests all over again. The NYO wasn't quite the same with Weller and Jane gone and Tasha in the CIA, and she found it hard to keep herself focused on the best days. Today was harder. She missed all of her friends but she missed her secret agent the most. She couldn't wait to have her back home. There were about a million things she wanted to do as soon as Tasha walked back through the door, most of them not rated PG.

Patterson was helping Afreen set up an experiment testing the contents of a container one of the field teams had brought back from a warehouse raid when her cell phone rang. She fished the phone from the pocket of her lab coat and glanced at the caller ID: Tasha. She quickly finished directing Afreen and stepped away, answering the phone as she walked out of the lab. 

"Hey Double Oh Z," Patterson said. She felt how enormous her smile was and didn't care. "Are you home already?" 

"Hey Patterson," Tasha replied. Her voice sounded tired even to her own ears. "No, I'm, um, I'm not gonna make it home today." 

"What do you mean?" Patterson asked, her voice rising a bit. She immediately returned her voice to normal. "I thought you were home today." 

Tasha sighed. "I know. It didn't wind up working out like that. Keaton —" 

"It's  _always_  Keaton," Patterson interrupted.  

"He's my boss, Patterson. I have to," Tasha said, a chilliness crept into her voice. "He's routing the trip home through Qatar. It'll be two more days." 

"Qatar!?" Patterson nearly yelled. She dropped her voice into a whisper. "What the hell is in Qatar?" 

Tasha didn't respond for a minute but Patterson heard the background noise change slightly. Tasha was walking away from wherever she'd been. When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper. 

"Look, Patterson, I can't really talk about it, but our intelligence suggests that Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani is holding talks with North Korea about nuclear armaments. We're trying to get ears and eyes on those talks." 

Patterson blew out a long breath. "How do you suppose you're going to do that? It's not like you can just walk in the front door and sit down at the table with Kim Jung-un." 

"We've intercepted one of the sheikh's sons," Tasha said even more quietly. "We're, um, using some enhanced interrogation techniques and leveraging our assets." 

"What do you mean? Like waterboarding?" 

Tasha gave a noncommittal response.  

"Tash! That's kidnapping and torture. You can't do that." 

"You have to stop looking at everything so black and white, Patterson," Tasha said patiently. "There's not always a right and wrong, a yes or a no. Sometimes, things have to happen within those gray areas." 

Patterson shook her head. Since joining the CIA, it sometimes felt like she didn't know Tasha at all.  

"No," she said. "I don't believe that." 

 


	4. A Lesson in Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tasha closed her eyes. She hadn't thought this through. Patterson had been subject to a lot of trauma over the last few years. Sneaking up on her in the dark with handcuffs was probably a terrible idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I omitted the handcuffs scene for maintaining the T rating but I wouldn't be sad if someone else wanted to write it. If you guys want it, I'll consider rewriting this chapter to include it. - DWP

The apartment was completely dark when Patterson got home. Tasha swore that she was coming back from Brazil today but judging by the darkness, Patterson guessed she wasn't. Another empty apartment. Another broken promise. Another night of take-out and beer alone in front of the TV. She shook her head and silently scolded herself for getting her hopes up. In the last two weeks, she'd only seen Tasha three times, maybe 30 hours total. And they weren't even consecutive hours. She wondered why Tasha bothered to even unpack her suitcase.  

Everything was hard now. Work was just work. With the team so scattered, it was just her and Reade left. Going there every day was just going through the motions. She had a great team in the lab, but it wasn't the same and her heart just wasn't in it. Her heart was still in Tasha's hands, even though she was never around. She loved her so much but she didn't love being alone.  

She reached for the light switch and cold steel wrapped around her wrist. A quiet click and ratcheting sound filled the room and Patterson screamed. A hand clamped down over her mouth from behind.  

"Shhhhh," Tasha rasped in her ear, pressing her body against her girlfriend's back, feeling her service pistol in its holster. Patterson was completely tense, every muscle in her body entering fight or flight mode. "Patterson, it's me. It's me." 

"The fuck!?" Patterson yelled, wrenching free of Tasha's grip and whirling around to face her captor, the handcuff still attached to her wrist. Her eyes were wide in the darkness of the room. "You scared the shit out of me. I thought...I almost pulled my gun on you!" 

Tasha closed her eyes. She hadn't thought this through. Patterson had been subject to a lot of trauma over the last few years. Sneaking up on her in the dark with handcuffs was probably a terrible idea.  

"I'm sorry," Tasha said. "I wasn't thinking. I just thought it'd be fun to..." 

"Give me a heart attack?"  

"I'm sorry. I didn't think this through," Tasha admitted, flicking the light on.  

Patterson's face was a mask of fear and anger, and Tasha felt sick for being the one responsible for it. She'd only thought that it would be fun,  _hot_ even, to greet Patterson in the dark, tie her up, and make her fall apart. They hadn't been able to spend more than an hour together in days. She was going to be home for nearly a week this time and wanted to make the most of it.   

Patterson looked at the handcuff dangling from her wrist and then back to Tasha. The brunette was dressed in a black and pink kimono, falling just to the tops of her thighs and cinched loosely at the waist. It appeared to be the only thing she was wearing. Patterson realized what Tasha had intended. The fear and anger evaporated, and she smiled slightly, raising her wrist up and letting the open cuff hang in front of Tasha's face.  

"Did you have something planned for these?" 

Tasha didn't speak for several seconds. She was trying to gauge whether she should go ahead with her plan or if it would just freak Patterson out even more. The look on the blonde's face, however, was encouraging.  She took a tentative step towards Patterson and grabbed the hanging cuff.  

"Well," she whispered, gently pulling Patterson's arms behind her back. She clicked the cuff closed. She kissed her neck from behind before placing a second kiss on her cheek. "I thought that maybe you and I..." 

She came back around to face Patterson, wrapped her arms around her neck, and kissed her deeply. "I missed you."  

Patterson kissed her back ferociously, nipping at Tasha's lower lip. With her hands cuffed behind her back, there wasn't much she could do. Tasha grabbed her around the waist and pulled her through the living room into their bedroom where she pushed Patterson onto the bed.  

*** 

The handcuffs hung from just one wrist as Patterson lay back on the bed, trying to catch her breath. Her hair was mussed and lips were swollen. She watched Tasha pad out of the room and return a few minutes later with two beers and a take-out menu from the Thai restaurant down the block.  

"You look hot in my cuffs," Tasha said, handing Patterson a beer and climbing back onto the bed beside her. She kissed her cheek and curled up tight next to her. "I should have tied you up sooner." 

"I have a whole new outlook on being handcuffed now," Patterson said, sipping at her beer. "These are not comfortable. At all." 

"Don't struggle so much next time," Tasha teased. She opened the menu. "Same thing as always or are you feeling adventurous?" 

Patterson smirked and rubbed her free wrist. "I think I've had enough adventure for one night. Let's just get the usual."  

Tasha looked around for her phone. It was nowhere to be seen. Patterson's was most likely in her purse somewhere in the living room or wherever she'd dropped it on the way to the bedroom. She got back up and reluctantly went back to the living room. Her phone was on the table next to the couch. Three missed calls. Five new text messages. She checked the log quickly. Keaton. The texts were all basically the same: Call me. Where are you? Call. Check in. Tasha, this is serious. 

"Did you find it?" Patterson called from the bedroom. "If not, mine is in my jeans." Tasha didn't respond. "Tash?" 

The brunette returned to the bedroom. The smile was gone from her face and she was frowning at her phone.  

"What's wrong?"  

Tasha shook her head. "Nothing. It's just Keaton called a bunch." 

Patterson sighed and started to get up.  Whenever Keaton called, it was usually a sign that the evening was over.  She searched the pocket of Tasha's discarded robefor the keys to the handcuffs and removed the final cuff, letting them fall onto the bed. She grabbed her robe from the closet and wrapped herself in it before sitting on the edge of the bed. 

"You better call him back," Patterson said. She was resigned. She'd almost expected Keaton to call and interrupt. It seemed like that was all he did lately.  

Tasha started to protest but knew that she needed to return the call. The Mumbai situation had changed recently and it had become her problem. If there was an issue, Keaton would be calling her.  She stepped away into the kitchen and quick dialed Keaton. She didn't even get a chance to say anything and Keaton was talking. When she came back into the bedroom, Patterson was fully dressed, and scrolling on her own phone. She sat down and stared at her hands. 

"When are you leaving?" Patterson asked tonelessly.  

Tasha didn't look up. "Two hours." 

"Where are you going?" 

"Bucharest." 

"Romania?" 

Tasha nodded.  

"When are you coming back?" 

"Four days." 

Patterson said nothing for a long time and Tasha let the silence spin out.  

"I hate this," Patterson said finally. "I never see you anymore. You're never here. We barely talk about anything other than food and sex. It's like I'm not in a relationship half the time." 

"What do you want from me, Patterson?" Tasha snapped. The words came out harsher than she intended. "What happened to 'nothing's going to change'?" 

"I  _didn't_  change," Patterson insisted quietly, trying to maintain control of her voice. She didn't want to yell but she felt the anger right there, ready to boil over. Instead, tears flooded down her cheeks. She couldn't stop them and didn't try. "You did! You're never here! You don't talk to me! I have no idea where you are most nights. I don't even know if you're in the city or the country. Half the time I go to bed wondering if you're still alive. You're off doing secret CIA things with Keaton, and I'm here waiting for my girlfriend to come home!"  

"It's my job," Tasha said evenly, dragging the words out as if Patterson was just too dense to see it.  

"That's what you always say. 'It's my job'," Patterson replied.  Her voice was frighteningly devoid of emotion. "You're my girlfriend. Where does that rank on the Tasha Zapata list of priorities? Does it rank?" 

Tasha shook her head. "That is not fair, Patterson," she said.  

"You're right," Patterson said. "It's not fair. It's not fair that in the last two weeks, I've seen you for breakfast once, slept in the same bed with you twice, and texted with you three times. Counting tonight? We've spent 34 hours together.  _Max_." 

"What do you want me to do? Quit? Stay home all day so you can feel like you're in a relationship? I can't do that, Patterson." 

Patterson said nothing. She was tired of having the same fight with Tasha. They could no longer talk to each other about their jobs: Patterson didn't have clearance to hear about CIA ops nor Tasha clearance for FBI cases. They rarely went out anymore. Tasha's job was taking her all over the world while Patterson was tied to the FBI NYO. When they did go out, Tasha was usually late and the excuse was always the same: Keaton needed her.  

Tasha stood up finally and turned to face Patterson. "I'm sorry. I really don't want to go." She paused and waited for Patterson to say something. Anything.  

"You better pack." 


	5. I'm Gonna Go to California

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What are you going to do?" Tasha asked but she already knew the answer.

Patterson fidgeted with the paper sleeve on her coffee cup and waited for Tasha. She'd chosen a seat near the window so she'd see her approach, but now she wished she'd sat further in the shop with her back to the door. She hadn't seen Tasha since she'd left for Romania more than two weeks ago. The op had run longer than the planned four days but Tasha had been back in New York since then. She'd stayed at the apartment but Patterson had been in Washington, D.C.  for a tech conference. She'd told Tasha that she wasn't avoiding her but Patterson wasn't quite so convinced.  

She'd texted Tasha as soon as she got back in the city and asked to meet for coffee. She had news and wasn't exactly sure how this conversation was going to go. Their relationship had been rocky lately. Tasha was rarely home, and when she was, there was sex. That was it. Their conversations had dissolved into trivial discussions about what to have for dinner and what time Tasha's next flight was leaving. Patterson hadn't even told Tasha that she was looking for a new job outside of law enforcement. And potentially out of New York. 

She sipped at her coffee and chewed on her bottom lip. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so nervous about anything. She didn't think she'd even been this nervous when she, albeit drunkenly, confessed to Tasha how she felt.  

"Hey, stranger," Taha said. She smiled and kissed Patterson's cheek before sliding into the seat opposite her. A cup of coffee was waiting for her. "Peterson" was scrawled across it. 

"Hey, Tash," Patterson said, returning the smile but quickly looking back down at her coffee cup.  

Something was wrong.  Tasha could sense it. She reached across the table and put a hand on Patterson's. Her touch was electric and for a moment Patterson considered skipping her news and just going home with Tasha.  

"Is everything ok?" she asked. "You seem  _off_." 

Patterson took a deep breath and looked up at Tasha. There was no point in dragging this out.  

"I got a job offer," Patterson said. "To work on video games." 

"That's amazing, Patterson," Tasha said and she meant it.  "I know you've been looking for a way out of the FBI and you love games —" 

"It's in Silicon Valley." 

"...California." 

Patterson nodded. She dropped her eyes again before turning away and staring out the window.   

"What are you going to do?" Tasha asked but she already knew the answer.   

The blonde didn't respond for a full minute. Tasha was getting ready to repeat the question when Patterson finally looked back at her. 

"I think I want to take it," Patterson said. "It's a great opportunity. I'd get to make my own video games." 

Tasha smiled sadly. She was genuinely happy Patterson had a great opportunity in front of her but if she moved to California, it'd be even harder to see her. It was already hard with her travel schedule. 

"That's great. I'm happy for you," she said. "And, hey, I travel a lot. I can just go to California instead of New York. I could even ask for a transfer and go with you." 

Patterson chewed her lip again. 

"What is it?" Tasha asked. She knew that look all too well.  

"I don't think that's a great idea," she said. "Maybe we need to take some time apart." 

It was Tasha's turn to be silent. She hadn't seen this coming. Well, maybe she saw it coming but it was far out on the horizon. She knew that their life together had been tough, and Patterson had become vocal in her displeasure with Tasha's travel schedule. They made plans and Tasha would have to cancel or she'd show up so late that Patterson was no longer interested in whatever activity they were planning together.  Or they'd be out and Keaton would call. She knew Patterson had grown to hate Keaton. If Patterson left for California, Tasha worried that'd be the end for them. And she wasn't ready to give up no matter how hard it had been.  

"Can I ask you something?" Tasha asked finally. "You're not thinking about going to California because of us, are you? I know it hasn't always been easy but I don't want to lose you." 

"Do you mean am I running?" 

Tasha nodded. Her face was expressionless. 

"No.  I'm not running," Patterson said. "But you have to know how hard it's been with us. I just think that maybe some time apart might be good." 

"It won't solve anything, you know. Going to California," Tasha said. "I'm still CIA. I still have a crazy travel schedule. And I still won't be able to talk to you about work." 

"It's not about that," Patterson replied, shaking her head. "Look, Tash, I love you. You know that, right? I mean, I know we fight about stuff but you're my best friend. You know that I love you?" 

Tasha smiled but her heart ached. She knew it was the truth and that's what made it hurt all the more. "Yeah." 

"I am miserable," she confessed. "Work is... mind numbing. You're gone. Weller's gone. Jane is gone.  It's me and Reade and Stuart and Briana and Afreen. And they're great. Really. But I hate it. There are no more tattoo cases. No more weird, mind-bending puzzles to solve. I spent last week readjusting the flow of the lab's computers and microscopes. I spend my whole week with jumper cables hooked up to my brain. And I come home and I'm alone. And I'm lonely and miserable. This new job, it could be something great. For me." 

Tasha looked out the window. She felt like she could cry. Patterson hadn't said it but she knew what this meant: they were breaking up.  

"So, that's it?" she asked. "Are we over?" 

Patterson hesitated. She was terrible at break-ups. No matter how she approached them, she always bungled them. When she broke it off with David, he'd done everything he could to get back with her. And it had gotten him killed. She filed that under "worst break-up ever."  

"The apartment's lease is all paid for the year so you can stay there," she said, avoiding the question. "You should stay there when you're in the city. I'm gonna go to California." 


	6. California

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patterson had been in California for just over two months. She'd already moved two times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have just two, maybe three chapters left in this work. Also, this is by far the longest chapter. I thought about splitting it into two, but I didn't think it made sense like that. - DWP

Patterson had been in California for just over two months. The job she'd left the FBI for was more than just working on video games. She was heading up a team developing gaming apps. It was challenging and fun and everything her work at the FBI had ceased to be. The app she was working on was right in her wheelhouse, too. It was like D&D and all the RPGs she loved but on a phone.

She was happy even though she was having a hard time finding her footing on the West Coast. She'd already moved apartments twice after getting the distinct feeling someone was following her one night. Her mind had screamed  _It's_ _Borden!_ _,_ and she'd been unable to shake that feeling even though rationally she knew he'd died in the explosion. She'd tried to ignore the unsettling feeling but when she went to bed at night, every noise was someone listening at the door. Every shadow was a potential intruder. And Shepherd and Borden lurked behind every tree and in every alleyway that she walked by. The familiar comfort of her FBI-issued service pistol was gone, and with her friends now scattered around the country, she had no one to talk to about her irrational fears or the nightmares that once again plagued her sleep. So, she'd moved to a different apartment complex. And when her neighbor's apartment was broken into and robbed, she moved again. 

The apartment she was living in now was more expensive than she liked considering its size but the security was good. And that made her feel better about it. There was a guard posted at all times in the lobby and the door locks were electronic and coded to tenant-specific fobs. Patterson was sure that if given the time, she'd be able to hack the locks but she'd investigated the source code and was fairly satisfied with it. Just the same, she'd added two deadbolts to her own front door and mounted a security camera above it. She'd applied for and obtained her gun permit and concealed carry permit for California and bought a pistol that she carried everywhere in the same place it had been for the last decade: in a holster at the small of her back. It might seem like overkill but she was able to sleep at night again and the nightmares had begun to subside again.

Patterson turned towards the front door of her building. Aside from the security features, the building was in walking distance of her new job. It was nice to be able to walk home instead of taking a 15-minute crowded subway ride across New York City. Usually she felt safe on the five-minute walk but now she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her. She was almost sure of it. She kept walking and checked her surroundings from her peripheral vision. She saw no one but instead of stepping up to the front door, she abruptly turned right and continued past the building. The feeling of being watched changed to one of being followed, and Patterson started to reach for her gun. 

"Forget where you live?" a familiar voice called from behind and Patterson spun around.    
Tasha was standing on the sidewalk a dozen steps behind her, hands in the pockets of her black blazer, and a smile on her face. 

"Tasha!" Patterson grinned. She ran at her and kissed her hard, smashing their lips together with such force their teeth banged together. She hugged her tight and buried her face in the brunette's shoulder.  "Oh my god! What are you doing here? How did you even find me?"

Tasha returned the hug, and her heart jumped in her chest. She wasn't sure what kind of reception she'd get from Patterson but was grateful it was this one. 

"I'm CIA, remember?" Tasha laughed. "You can run, but you can't hide."

Patterson ended their hug and grabbed for Tasha's hand. It was one of the familiar, comfortable gestures she'd been missing since leaving New York for Silicon Valley. 

"Come on," she said, pulling Tasha along to the front door. 

Patterson used her fob to unlock the door leading into the lobby. She showed a tenant's ID to the security guard and headed to the elevator, once again using the fob to direct the elevator to her floor. 

"Fancy digs, Patterson," Tasha said once the elevator door closed. "That's some next-level security."

Patterson shook her head. 

"It's no big deal. A lot of buildings around here have this kind of security," she lied, watching the car indicator light count off the floors as the elevator continued its assent to the fifth and top floor. 

"Oh sure," Tasha said, nodding. "I'm surprised there's no retina scanner." She paused. " _Is_  there a retina scanner?"

"No, no retina scanner," Patterson laughed. "Just a fingerprint scanner and voice lock at my door. As a visitor, I'll need you to leave a blood sample as well."

Tasha grinned and took a step closer to Patterson, draping her arms around her neck. She dropped her voice to a husky purr and lightly scratched her nails across the nape of Patterson's neck. "Are you going to be drawing the blood yourself?"

Patterson shivered. She kissed Tasha again just before the elevator announced its arrival at her floor. She retook her hand and led her down the hallway to her apartment's door. Tasha noticed the small black security camera mounted just above the doorframe. None of the nearby apartments had similar cameras. Patterson produced a set of keys from her purse and unlocked the top two deadbolts before waving her security fob in front of an electronic sensor. The sensor beeped and a green light signaled that the door was now unlocked. She opened the door and let Tasha inside, locking all three locks once they were both inside. She unclipped the holster from her belt and set the gun on a nearby table. 

"Rough neighborhood?" Tasha asked, her gaze fixed on the gun. When Patterson had been FBI, she knew that the blonde carried her gun everywhere especially after Borden. Now that she wasn't carrying a badge, the presence of the gun was surprising and slightly concerning. The addition of the security camera and the two deadbolts was certainly an eyebrow raiser as well. 

Patterson waved the question away and headed towards the kitchen. 

"Do you want a drink or something?" she asked, taking a rocks glass from the cabinet and pouring herself two fingers of Bulleit. "I've got this, beer, all the usual stuff I guess."

"Whatever you're having is good," Tasha said, following Patterson. She leaned against the kitchen counter and looked around. "Nice place."

"Thanks," Patterson said, handing a glass to Tasha. "It's a little small, and I haven't completely unpacked yet and it's making me crazy because I can't find anything but I like it."

Tasha clinked glasses with Patterson and took a swallow of the bourbon. Aside from the crazy security, everything felt so familiar. And Patterson looked great. She seemed happier than the last time she'd seen her. Her smile seemed genuine for the first time in a long time. Tasha felt a wave of jealousy that she hadn't been the one to make her so happy.

"So, not that I'm not happy to see you," Patterson began, heading to the living room and sitting cross-legged on the couch, "but what are you doing here?"

Tasha sat beside her and set her glass on the table. She noticed Patterson's new periodic table of elements coasters and smiled. They were so Patterson it almost hurt.

"Believe it or not, Keaton actually sent me somewhere domestic for once. I'm out here for a week," she said. "So, I thought since I was out here, I'd drop by and see you. I've heard all those stories about California girls so I thought I'd see if the rumors are true. And I missed you."

"What stories?" Patterson pressed.

Tasha licked her lips. "You know, 'cutest girls in the world'," she said. "I mean, that's just what I've been told."

"And?"

"From where I'm sitting, it's true," Tasha replied, taking a sip of her drink. Despite Patterson's teeth rattling greeting, she wasn't exactly sure where they stood. When Patterson had told her she was moving, she had avoided answering the one question Tasha wanted the answer to most: Are we over?

Patterson leaned over and kissed Tasha. She hadn't realized how much she missed her. She wasn't sure if they were together or if they should be together but at that moment it didn't matter much. When she'd left for California, she was ready to break up but damn if Tasha wasn't putting it on thick for her. And it was working. 

"Where are you staying?" Patterson asked finally, reluctantly breaking their kiss. 

"A Holiday Inn off 82," Tasha replied. "It's next to a Panera."

"Wow. CIA is full of big spenders, huh?" She sipped at her drink thoughtfully for a moment before setting the glass down. "You could stay here if you want."

Tasha studied Patterson's face for any sign that the invitation might not be genuine. She had been hoping Patterson would ask her to stay.

"Are you sure?" she asked finally. "I mean, when you moved we sort of left things up in the air. I don't wanna be in your way or make things weird or —" 

Patterson kissed her again, this time more forcefully, her tongue slipping between Tasha's lips and tasting the bourbon mixed with that distinctly Tasha taste.  She put her hands behind the brunette's neck and pulled her even closer. 

***

Tasha fell back against the pillows. Her breath was ragged and her lips were still tingling. Patterson curled up next to her and rested her head on her shoulder. 

"That was... wow," Tasha said when she finally caught her breath again. 

"Two months," Patterson reminded her. 

Neither spoke for a few minutes. They were just enjoying being near each other. Tasha finally turned on the bed to face Patterson. She cupped the blonde's chin and brought her face up to her own and kissed her. 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Are you okay?" Tasha asked. "I mean, when I first got here, you acted like you were expecting someone to jump out at you. And the super tight security in the building, the camera over the door, the double deadbolts. The gun... Is everything, is everything okay?"

Patterson twisted her lips and considered the question. For the last two months, she wanted to talk to someone about how she was feeling but now it felt  _different._  Having Tasha back in her bed made it different. The fears she had about Borden and Shepherd seemed so far away. She leaned back on the bed and said nothing for a very long time. 

"Forget I asked," Tasha said finally and started to get up. She'd made a mistake coming to see Patterson and a bigger mistake by going to bed with her. Their relationship was still broken. She'd be better off staying at the Holiday Inn.

"No, it's okay," Patterson said finally, reaching out and pulling Tasha back to the bed. "I just... it feels silly now."

Tasha shook her head. "What feels silly?"

Patterson took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. 

"This is my third apartment in two months," she confessed. "For the longest time I couldn't shake this feeling that  _he_ was still out there. Every noise, every shadow, everything. It was him."

"Who?" Tasha asked. "Who's still out there?"

"Borden."

Tasha grabbed Patterson's hand and squeezed. "Sweetie, he's dead. You know he's dead."

"I know," she said. "But I couldn't help it. It felt like I was being watched. The nightmares were back and —"

"Nightmares?" Tasha asked. She didn't remember Patterson ever having nightmares. 

"I didn't have them when we were together," she explained as if reading Tasha's thoughts. "But before that and when I came out here, I'd have these nightmares where I was back at that place and Borden was there and Shepherd was there. And they'd do it all again....So I moved. And then my neighbor's place was broken into and I had to get out of there. I broke my lease and moved here."

"Because of the security."

Patterson nodded. "I added the camera and the deadbolts but yeah, that's why I moved here. It felt safe. And I got the gun."

"Because it made you feel safe."

Another nod.  "And then the nightmares stopped."

"Safe."

"Yeah."

 Tasha hugged Patterson tightly. She was overwhelmed with guilt. No matter their relationship status, Patterson was still her best friend. She didn't want her to be hurting or afraid. 

"Oh, chiquita," she cooed, smoothing a hand over the blonde's messy hair. Her stomach felt tight like she could be sick. "I'm so sorry. "

***

The pair fell into their old habits quickly. To Patterson, it felt like it did before Tasha joined the CIA. She was the first person she saw every morning and the last person she saw every night. They ate meals together, watched television, walked around Mountain View and explored the restaurants and shops, and generally enjoyed just being together. Their relationship felt normal for the first time in a very long time. And it wouldn't last. Patterson knew that as soon as Tasha left for her next op in the morning, everything would go back to how it had been in New York. She couldn't bear the thought of it. 

The problem with Tasha leaving is that it left open the door to uncertainty. They could maintain whatever their current relationship status was and see each other when Tasha could stop by California, or Patterson could end it. It hurt her to think about it but she knew what had to be done. She couldn't live month-to-month waiting for those few days when Tasha would be her girlfriend again. This had to be the end. It would be better for both of them. Even if the idea of it made Patterson sick to her stomach.

Tasha was waiting for her when she got home from work. She was curled up on the couch flipping through a tech magazine Patterson had picked up at a newsstand the previous day. Two glasses of wine were on the table and Patterson smelled Thai food. 

"I picked up dinner from that Thai place down the street," Tasha said as Patterson fell onto the couch beside her.

"You are a saint," she said, picking up the waiting wine glass and sipping at it. She groaned. "You're really leaving tomorrow, huh? I could get used to this."

Tasha sighed and sat up straighter on the couch. Just the reminder that she was leaving was too much. She'd been dreading the end of her California trip but she'd made an important decision.

"I think we need to talk before I go," she said. 

Patterson sat up and turned to study Tasha. Her face had gone serious. 

"Well, that doesn't sound good," she said.

Tasha took a deep breath and thought about what she wanted to say. There was a lot to say, and she didn't quite know where to start. 

"You make me feel grounded, " Tasha confessed after a moment. "It's like all this stuff is swirling around me and then there's you. This rock. My anchor. This incredible force. And when I'm with you, when I think about you, everything stops swirling, and everything gets still. And that's when I feel like everything will be okay."

Patterson's heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest. She gripped her wine glass tighter and forced herself to take another nonchalant sip. This was not the conversation she thought was about to have with Tasha, and her mind raced for a way to flip the script. 

"What are you saying?" she asked.

Tasha took a sip at her wine and set the glass back down, turning to look at Patterson. 

"I love you," she said. "So much. You're my favorite person in the whole entire world. And being with you is five million times better than not being with you."

"I love you too —" Patterson began. 

Tasha put a hand on Patterson's arm and cut her off. "Let me finish," she said and took another deep breath. "I don't think I can do this. It's too hard."

Patterson looked blankly at Tasha. She had no idea what she was talking about anymore. 

"What can't you do?" she asked. "What's too hard?"

Another deep breath. Tasha felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes. 

"Us," she said. And then the tears started to flood down her cheeks. "I can't stand seeing you for a day here and there or a week if I'm lucky, and then leaving for who knows how long. I want to be with you all the time not just whenever I can find time in my schedule. It's not fair to you. It's not fair to me. Leaving tomorrow is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done, and I don't get a choice. I have to go."

"Can I say something now?" Patterson asked. She set her own glass back down and her own tears began. Tasha nodded. "I love you. You're my best friend, and I just love you. I can't help it. Having you here this week was amazing. The best week I've had in a long, long time.  But I can't do this either. I don't want to wait for those few days every month or every six months when I get to have you as my girlfriend again. I want you here every day. It's greedy but that's what I want. And since I can't, we can't. Maybe someday that will change and we can try again. "

Neither spoke for a long time. The silence was becoming uncomfortable and Patterson started to fidget. She didn't know what else to say. 

"Maybe I should just go now," Tasha said finally, wiping away tears. 

"No," Patterson said, taking the brunette's hands in her own. "Stay. Please. I have one more night with you, and I don't want to lose it."


	7. Pretty Little Dragonfly Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing was quite the same. There was plenty of blame to go around for that. Add Jane's new tattoos to the blame list. When Tasha saw the dragonfly, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter hurt a little bit to write.

Tasha had hoped to be able to spend another week with Patterson. Perhaps in an exotic location where they could turn off their cellphones and just be together.  A cell in Venezuela wasn't quite what she'd had in mind. But when the guards shoved the blonde into the cell alongside her and Reade, it'd taken all her willpower not to capture Patterson in a tight hug and kiss her lips off. She looked incredible. Her blonde hair was long now and even kidnapped and sold into slavery, she was still gorgeous. But following their breakout and subsequent rescue by Jane and Weller, nothing was quite the same. 

There was plenty of blame to go around for that. It'd been nearly two years since the team had worked together, and there was a lot to adjust to. Patterson hadn’t even wanted to stay in New York. Tasha wondered if it was because of how they'd left things in California, and she'd planned to talk to Patterson about it when the blonde changed her mind upon seeing  _her_  lab being run by Rich and Stuart.

 And there was Reade. Assistant Director Edgar Reade. All of the old feelings she once had for him came rushing back in a flood of emotion and, when she finally met his girlfriend, she was once again irrationally jealous. She kept telling herself that she didn't love Reade but she wasn't sure that was true. Patterson, sensing her one-time girlfriend's feelings, even encouraged her to tell Reade how she felt. But she was still in love with Patterson. How could emotions be so complicated? 

Add Jane's new tattoos to the blame list, too. When Tasha saw the dragonfly, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Patterson was going to solve it. She knew that. It was only a matter of time and though she assured Keaton that it wouldn't be a problem, it was going to be. Nas even warned her of the looming fallout.

Confessing knowledge of Dragonfly164's identity was even harder than breaking it off with Patterson had been. She knew admitting what she knew for nearly a year would torpedo any chance she might have to try to make it work with Patterson again. If she didn't tell them about Borden, however, Patterson would have figured it out on her own. And that would have been awful.

"Patterson!" Tasha called as she followed the blonde out of SIOC. "I am so sorry. You have no idea how hard it was for me to keep that from you."

Patterson turned slowly and stared at Zapata. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. After confessing to Zapata how frightened she was that Borden might still be alive, the brunette had the audacity to tell her it had been a "hard" secret to keep. 

"How hard it was for you?!" she demanded, her voice shaking with anger. She took a step forward and stopped herself before getting close enough to shake or slap the agent. "I can still feel his hands on me when I try to fall asleep at night. Because before he beat me, shot me, and put a tracking device in me, he used to sleep in my bed."

"I know," Tasha said quietly.

"All this time," Patterson began. She remembered Tasha telling her in California that Borden was dead. She felt her lip quiver in rage, and she was afraid she was about to start crying.  "You knew he was still out there and you said nothing."

"I was trying to protect you," Tasha explained. "I thought it would be better if you never knew he was alive."

Patterson took another single step towards Zapata. "It tormented me that he died on his own terms! All I wanted was to put him in prison, to take back a  _fraction_  of the control that he took away from me! You got a second chance, and you should have given me that. But instead, you chose to work with him."

"I had to. It is my job."

Patterson didn't care that she couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her face. She hated that tired excuse and at that moment she hated Tasha for hiding behind it.

"You're my best friend," she said. "Whatever it would have cost you to say no, you should have cared about me more." She turned and started down the hallway again. 

"Patterson..." Tasha tried as she followed. 

"No, Zapata," Patterson said, her voice icy. "We're done."

Tasha didn't reply as she watched Patterson turn the corner and disappear. 

***

Tasha thought about following Reade after he stormed out of the bar but thought better of it. So she started wandering. She'd screwed up so many friendships in just one day. It'd taken only eight words to make Patterson turn on her: "I know who Dragonfly164 is. It's Borden. He's alive." And just five to make Reade leave: "I'm in love with you." She felt like her world was spinning out of orbit and she had nothing to hold on to. Her two best friends were hurting because of her. She desperately needed to make things right. That's how she found herself standing in front of Patterson's apartment. 

She raised her hand to knock and hesitated. It was a mistake coming here. Patterson wouldn't want to talk to her, and she couldn't blame her for that. But she needed Patterson to talk to her. She needed someone to anchor her back down as everything around her spun out of control. She took a deep breath and knocked.

Patterson answered the door. Her eyes were puffy and red and she was holding her gun. When she saw Tasha, she sighed, lowered the gun to her side, and walked back into the apartment, leaving the door open. There was no sense slamming the door in her face. Tasha would just approach her the next morning at the NYO. If they were going to have it out, she wanted to do it privately. She dropped onto her couch, set her pistol back on the table, and picked up a water glass filled with bourbon. She took a large swallow. 

"I've moved apartments seven times in the last two years trying to find one where I felt safe," Patterson said quietly, not waiting for Tasha to start her apology if she had one at all. She couldn't bring herself to look at Zapata. She just felt tired. Everything that had happened in the last few hours had taken everything she had. She just wanted to sleep now. "I kept telling myself, 'There's no reason to be afraid. Borden is dead.'  _You_ told me he was dead. But you lied to me."

Tasha sat on the couch beside Patterson and reached for her hand. She held it loosely, running her thumb over the blonde's knuckles. Patterson didn't seem to notice.

"I'm sorry, Patterson," she said simply. "I'd take it back if I could."

Patterson shook her head, her eyes sharpening and voice taking on a hard edge. "No. It's not that easy. You don't get to come back here and tell me you're sorry and you'd 'take it back', and that everything will be okay. It's not okay. I trusted you. More than anyone in the whole world. I trusted you."

"I know —"

"Shut up. Just. Shut. Up," Patterson barked, pulling her hand away. She fixed Tasha with an icy glare. "You don't get to say things. I loved you. After Borden I thought that was it. He haunted me. I had nightmares like I hope no one ever has. And then there was you. And it was wonderful. I felt safe and loved and happy. And all of the shit went away. But you took my love and my trust and everything I am and everything I had to give, and you just threw it away. Did you ever love me at all? Was it all a lie? A cover for the CIA? Is that all I was? Just someone you could use when it was convenient and then throw away?"

"No," Tasha whispered. Tears were streaming down her face now. She hated that Patterson was upset. She knew she would be, but she couldn't stand that the woman she loved was so angry with her. She hated herself enough for both of them.  "It wasn't like that. It's not like that.  I loved you. I still love you."

"So, what  _was_ it like then? A fun game to see how much you could fuck me up? Is that what you and  _Nigel_  talked about? Breaking me? Turning me into some shell so afraid of shadows that I don't feel safe in my own home? I can't go to the grocery store without carrying a gun. I can't sleep at night without feeling his hands on me and his breath in my ear."

Tasha said nothing. She let the tears flood down her cheeks and did nothing to try to stop them. 

"Answer me!" Patterson yelled, her own tears bursting free finally. "Dammit, Tasha! Say  _something_!"

Tasha sniffed loudly and wiped at her eyes. She shook her head. 

"I don't know what to say," she said softly.  "I didn't want to hurt you. I  _don't_  want to hurt you.  I thought if I didn't tell you about Borden, it'd be better. You could forget about him. Move on —"

"Forget about him?" Patterson was enraged. Her eyes flew wide open. "How the fuck do you forget about someone who pretended to be someone they're not? Pretended to love you, slept in your bed, touched you more intimately than most people ever will, and then tortured you for  _hours_  before turning you into a walking bug and trying to kill you? How!?"

"I don’t...I don't know," Tasha admitted. 

"Then that makes two of us," Patterson replied in a much quieter voice, picking her glass up again. "Because I don't know either. And I've tried."

Tasha didn't respond. She grabbed a tissue from a nearby box and wiped at her tear-stained face before going to the kitchen and getting a bottle of water from Patterson's refrigerator. Her throat felt swollen and like she'd spent the day eating strips of sandpaper. She swallowed hard and returned to the couch. 

"I have to know something," Patterson said. "I don't want to know but I have to."

Tasha nodded. "Anything."

Patterson hesitated. The question she had to ask was painful but she needed the answer. 

"Did you love me at all? Or were you and I just part of one of your ops?"

Tasha shook her head. "I don't understand."

"While you were working with  _him,_ was part of that keeping close tabs on me? Staying close so that you'd have leverage over him and intel you could use to keep him cooperative?"

Tasha was appalled by the question. She shook her head rapidly and reached for Patterson's hand again but the blonde pulled it away. 

"Oh my god, Patterson," she said quietly. "No. Absolutely not. I stayed close to you because I couldn't stand not being close to you. I know you probably don't want to hear it, but I love you. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Patterson didn't respond. She closed her eyes. She was so tired. Tasha watched her for a long time. She wasn't sure what to do. She was thinking she ought to leave when Patterson opened her eyes again.

"Jane told me you killed his deal," she said.

"He's going to prison," she said. "For life."

"Was that your decision or Keaton's?"

"Mine," Tasha admitted. "Keaton fought me."

Patterson nodded. She finished her bourbon and turned a serious look to Zapata. 

"I always thought that what happened to me had to mean something," she confided. "That it wasn't just a horrible thing that happened to me at the hands of terrible people. But it turns out it was just a terrible thing that happened in my past. I'll probably never truly recover from it."

She closed her eyes again. A few minutes later she was asleep. Tasha watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. Finally, she got up and grabbed a throw blanket from the back of the couch. She eased Patterson into a laying position and covered her. She was tempted to kiss her. Instead, she kissed her own fingers and placed them lightly against Patterson's lips before locking the door and leaving. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a final chapter and I'm just doing final edits on it. I don't know if it actually adds anything, however. I may or may not opt to post it.


	8. The Decisions We Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What else had Tasha lied to her about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. Finally. I'd originally meant to just give the final chapter a quick edit and post it, but I was less than happy with my effort so I rewrote it instead of just editing it. Thanks to everyone who's followed along for this eight-chapter effort. It was fun (and occasionally gut-wrenching). - DWP

Patterson woke up on her couch with the worst stiff neck she'd ever had. The hangover wasn't pleasant either. She spotted the water glass on the table and remembered filling it to the brim with bourbon. Twice.  _That's like 12_ _shots of bourbon_ , an annoying voice in her mind informed her. Her head was pounding. She sat up and looked around, pulling the blanket from her lap. She couldn't remember laying down or pulling a blanket over herself. And then she remembered Tasha had been there. Her throat was sore. She must have yelled. 

She fumbled for her cell phone and checked the time. There was about an hour before she needed to be in the office. Patterson realized it was going to be a paperwork morning and groaned. Her brain wasn't quite up for it. She dragged herself to the bathroom and stepped into the shower, cranking the water as cold as it would go. She let it flood over her until she felt herself turning blue. 

At her desk, Patterson left the lights off as she typed up her report for the dragonfly tattoo case file. She waved away everyone who approached her, and even her own typing was too loud. Each keystroke reverberated inside her skull. Her report on the latest tattoo was slow-going, and Patterson was certain she would have struggled with it even if she wasn't nursing a hangover. She shook a couple of aspirin from the economy-sized bottle on her desk and swallowed them dry. Her mind kept wandering back to fragments of a conversation she must have had with Zapata the previous night.  She was hung up on one of the last things Zapata had told her: She'd been the one to kill Borden's CIA deal. He was going to prison. For life. 

After her rage at Zapata yesterday, she felt nothing now. Nothing wasn't exactly the right word. She almost pitied Borden. And that was ridiculous. In her mind, Borden had become a great mythical monster. She'd been haunted by him for more than two years. He was the boogey man hiding in the closet or waiting under the bed. Now that she knew he was alive and she'd seen him with her own two eyes, it was different. She didn't see a monster. She saw the shell of a man who was once Robert Borden or Nigel Thornton. A broken, weak shell of a man without a future. She didn't take any particular satisfaction from this. It was simply an observation. 

None of that, however, helped the tattered remains of her relationship with Zapata. Patterson didn't know how she could ever trust Tasha again, and her heart ached.  Aside from being her best friend, Tasha had been the only person she'd trusted enough to tell about her nightmares and all of the times she'd moved in just her first two months in California. She'd trusted Tasha more than anyone else in the entire world. But Tasha had been lying to her for more than half of the time they were together.  She'd been assigned as Borden's handler since early in her CIA career. It occurred to Patterson that some of the trips Tasha had taken to Berlin and Hong Kong were most likely trips to see Borden. What else had Tasha lied to her about?

She almost didn't want to think about it. That can of worms might be best unopened. Besides, she wasn't sure her brain could start the deep dive into that question. It was too busy screaming at her:  _Tasha is your best friend. You're in love with Tasha. You can't be in a_ _romantic_ _relationship with someone you don't trust._

She finished off the very large bottle of water that was sitting on the corner of her desk and sighed. She didn't know what to do about Tasha. For now, she'd do as Reade asked: she'd treat her professionally. Patterson made her way to the printer and picked up the copies of her report and added them to the completed case file. 

Tasha was doing paperwork at her desk when Patterson approached and set a thick file folder down.

"Here's a copy of the case file for the dragonfly tattoo," Patterson said. "I figured the CIA would want one, too."

Tasha took the folder and glanced at it in surprise. She assumed she'd have to go to Reade to get a copy of it. He'd already intervened to ensure Patterson at least treated Tasha professionally and included her in briefings and updates. She had a fleeting hope that maybe Patterson would be able to overlook her deception and they could at least be friends again.

"Yeah, thanks," she said. Patterson began to walk away when Tasha called after her. "Hey, uh, Reade still has some extra cake samples in the fridge if you wanted —"

"No," Paterson interrupted quietly. "This is the only relationship I can have with you right now."

"I made a mistake—"

"I don't think you did," Patterson replied. Her voice was emotionless but calm. "I think you're someone who can see things objectively, without friendships or emotions getting in the way. The CIA is lucky to have you."

Tasha watched Patterson leave and tried to swallow down the lump that had formed in her throat. The ice hadn't melted, and Tasha's heart sank. 

***

Tasha hadn't expected to see Bill in SIOC that day but it was a pleasant surprise. She had met him about a year ago for dinner when she'd first started dating Patterson and had initially been stunned that Patterson's father was  _the_ Bill Nye. But he'd been perfectly sweet to her and seemed genuinely happy that Patterson was in a relationship and happy. When Patterson had excused herself to use the restroom, he'd confided to Tasha that he and her mother worried about their daughter after David's murder. And even more so after Borden. They'd even asked her if she ever thought about leaving the FBI for something less dangerous. But Patterson seemed so happy now and he suspected Tasha was the reason why. 

Bill had picked up on the tension between Tasha and Patterson almost immediately. Patterson had gone slightly rigid when Tasha greeted him with a hug in SIOC. His daughter had not told him she'd broken up with Tasha and she certainly hadn't filled him in on the details of Tasha's betrayal but he could sense something had gotten off track between the two of them.  He spotted Tasha at her desk and stopped on his way back to Patterson's lab.

"Hi, Tasha," Bill said and grinned when the brunette looked up with her own smile. 

"Bill! It's so nice to see you again," she said. "Any luck with the database?"

Bill shook his head. "Not yet. It's a tough nut to crack. Whoever is flooding it is better than my algorithm."  He sat on the edge of Tasha's desk and looked around for signs of Patterson. He didn't see her anywhere. "So, what's going on with you two?"

Tasha looked down. She didn't really want to talk about it. Especially not with Bill.

"We broke up," she said quietly. No one in the office had even known they were together. She wasn't sure Patterson would want her to be discussing their business.

Bill looked surprised. "What? When? You guys were so great together!"

She gave a faint smile. "Yeah, I know. But it was like six months ago. I travel a lot and she'd moved to California. It just wasn't going to work," she explained. "But, um, we don't talk about that here. No one knows we were together let alone that we broke up."

"Hmm. Six months ago, huh?" Bill said. "Well, that's not it then. Has something else happened?"

Tasha didn't respond while she thought about the best way to answer his question. Clearly Patterson hadn't told him what she'd done and she was actually grateful for that. She'd hate to disappoint Bill, too. She liked him far too much for that.  

"I'd really rather not talk about it," she said finally. "I made a decision a while back that I thought was the right one. It wasn't. And Patterson just found out. I was just doing my job but..."

"She took it personally," Bill supplied. "Pattersons tend to do that, I'm afraid. They're stubborn women, Tasha, but they're worth it. Don't give up on her. She'll come around again. But, you know, maybe you can just forgive her —"

"It's not for me to forgive," Tasha interrupted. "I've apologized a million times. Patterson's not ready to forgive me, and honestly, I don't know if she should."

***

Bill's words echoed in Patterson's head:  _Take your own advice._ _It sounds like she was just doing her job._   When they'd been together, she hated Tasha's constant defense that she was doing her job. But she was. Patterson knew that. She was the job just as much as Tasha was. That's why she pulled all-nighters and had a hard time separating her work life from her home life. Her dad was right and she hated that.  He'd distracted her, just like always, and the solution was there. Tasha was just doing her job. Her own words tasted like vinegar. 

Patterson was torn. She desperately missed Tasha. She was her best friend. More than that, she was still in love with her. And Tasha clearly still had feelings for her, even if they were just those of a friend for a friend: she'd charged into the Henning Culinary Center when she thought Patterson's life was in danger and killed the man who was about to fire his gun at her turned back. But she wasn't over it. Far from it. Tasha had lied and Patterson was struggling to get past that. 

But her dad was right. She'd made the trip from her lab to just around the corner from Tasha's desk about five times before she worked up the courage to approach. She found Tasha filling out paperwork. 

"So, tonight promises to suck," Patterson said suddenly and held up the laptop retrieved from Lynette Belmont's safe. "Trying to crack this laptop, and I'd rather bang my head against a wall." She hesitated before putting the big question out there. "Do you wanna help?"

Tasha looked up. She was caught completely off-guard by Patterson's invitation. They'd had polite, civil work-related conversations since she'd visited Patterson's apartment but the promise of getting back to good seemed to linger just behind her ex-girlfriend's words. 

"Yeah, I would."

Patterson nodded and drummed her fingers on the laptop's lid. "I'm not over it yet."

"I know."

"But I want to be."

Tasha gave a faint smile but inside her heart was exploding.  "That's good enough for me."

***

The first few minutes Tasha and Patterson spent in the lab were beyond awkward. Neither spoke while Patterson powered on Lynette's laptop and waited for the log-in screen to appear. Tasha had fished the menu for Thai Jasmine out of her desk drawer and was making a show of pouring over it. They'd ordered from Thai Jasmine hundreds of times. She didn't even need to look at the menu but Patterson hadn't said anything to her since inviting her to work on the laptop, and she didn't really know what to say. Patterson cleared her throat suddenly, drawing Tasha's attention from the menu. 

"I think we should talk," Patterson said, leaning on the counter where Tasha had settled with the menu. 

"Sure," Tasha said. She hoped she sounded nonchalant but her heart was racing and panic was settling in. 

Patterson bit her lip and hesitated. 

"I'm sorry I froze you out," she said finally. 

"It's okay," Tasha said. "I'm pretty sure I deserved it."

"No, well, yeah you did but it's not okay," Patterson said. She searched for the right words to say next but Tasha cut her off. 

"Look, Patterson, you don't have to say anything," she said. "Let's not make this any more awkward than it already is."

Patterson looked away and then looked back to find Tasha looking back at the menu. She grabbed the menu and pulled it away, forcing Tasha to look back at her. 

"I'm still in love with you," Patterson blurted out much too loudly. She lowered her voice. "I love you. I'm so not over any of this and it's going to take some time, but I'm not over you."

Tasha didn't know what to say. She'd expected Patterson to say any number of things. This was not one of those things. She was elated. 

"I'm still in love with you, too" she admitted. She took Patterson's hand in her own. It felt right. She'd forgotten how right it felt. "Take all the time you need. I'll wait."


	9. I'll Come Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I'd planned to be done with this and then I was asked for some more chapters. So here's another. I've got about five more planned. 
> 
> I thought about splitting this and all of the chapters to follow off into a separate work within a series. The title "Snapshots of You and I" no longer seems to fit as I get further into this since the chapters that follow are less "snapshots" of Patterson and Tasha and become part of a much more defined narrative leading into a what-if plotline for S4. If you guys think I ought to split it, let me know. I don't really know how to proceed with this from a purely technical AO3 perspective.

Tasha sat on the couch in her apartment and looked around. It felt empty. The two suitcases she packed after signing her exit paperwork at the NYO were waiting next to the door, and she stared at them. The last 24 hours had been a whirlwind. Ordinarily she'd feel like her world was sliding right off the face of the planet and she'd be grasping for anything to keep herself from falling with it, but she felt unusually calm and collected.  _Resigned. That's the word you're looking for_ , she thought and sighed. She wondered what was coming next as she reflected back on everything that had just happened. 

She shouldn't have felt anything. She knew this. This was all part of the plan Keaton had set in motion months ago. Tasha couldn't prove it, but she suspected that Keaton had seen her reaction to Patterson's medically induced coma and injuries following the lab explosion and decided it was time to start to slowly change her role at the CIA. He'd seen how valuable she could be as an undercover asset with some of the past cases she'd been involved with at the FBI. She had no obvious ties to family and he considered her a perfect choice for undercover field work. No ties except for the relationship she'd been trying desperately to rebuild with Patterson and that wasn't exactly public information.  

Tasha remembered the conversation she'd had with Keaton about his own undercover days.  _The field works for people who don't have anyone_ , he'd told her. At the time, this comment didn't bother her but it did now. Maybe she didn't have a father or much of a relationship with her brothers or anyone else in her family but she had a best friend and brother in Reade and she had a Patterson. Her heart ached at the thought of just slipping away and leaving Patterson behind. They had agreed to be friends again and had both admitted to their feelings for one another even if they hadn't completely resumed their more intimate relationship. She still loved Patterson, and she felt she owed her an explanation before she simply vanished.  

Keaton had been very explicit in his directions to her after her "firing." She was to cut ties and let go. Of everything and everyone. She was on a new path and her friends couldn't come with her if she wanted to continue her career with the CIA. That "everyone" part was proving to be the hardest part of her new assignment. She'd said goodbye to Reade in the best way she could think of after years of sexual tension and platonic flirting: they'd finally had sex and then she told him their timing was just off. And that wasn't just an excuse. She was being truthful. Had they happened two years earlier, things might have been different. She might never have gotten together with Patterson and she might not be heading out for fieldwork with the CIA. If only everything had been different. But it wasn't.  

Patterson was a different problem. She hadn't even offered her an explanation as to her future plans. She'd given Patterson the same line she'd fed everyone else that day in SIOC: _I've been fired. I'm out of moves. I have to figure it out on my own._ Of course, that wasn't exactly true. Or true at all. It was just semantics, really. But she hadn't even spoken to Patterson since leaving the NYO that day. She'd seen her working in the lab when she went in to sign her paperwork but was afraid that if she went to talk to her, she'd break down and tell Patterson everything. So, she left instead.  

Tasha scooped her phone off the table and checked the time. She was due onboard a private chartered flight to Cape Town, South Africa in just a few hours. She considered texting Patterson. She wanted to see her before she left and then thought better of it. She set the phone back down. Nothing good could possibly come from her texting Patterson now. She went to a small desk in the corner of the room and pulled a few pieces of paper from the printer and grabbed a pen and took them to her kitchen counter. She considered the blank page for a minute before starting to write.  

 _Dear Patterson,_  

 _It feels weird to write you a letter instead of calling or texting. I don't know the last time I actually wrote a letter with a pen and paper. High school maybe. Anyway,_ _I'll apologize for my penmanship now. You know it's not the greatest. And I'm sorry we couldn't talk in person. I hope by the time you finish reading this, you'll understand why I wrote_ _instead of calling or coming by_. _Also, you're the only person I'm_   _t_ e _lling_ _any of this to. I trust you'll keep it to yourself. But I know you will._  

 _First, and the most important thing I have to tell you_ _:_ _I love the hell out of you. The hardest thing about all of this is not seeing you and just leaving. I'm supposed to just cut ties and disappear but I can't do that. Not with you. I_ _love you. Every_ _single thing about you_ _. And I'm so sorry for everything. The lies, leaving you, and, well, anything else that you want to blame on me. It's okay. I completely deserve all of it. But you have to know how much I love you, and if I could go back and change things, I would. If only so I could be with you all of the time and go back to how things were before everything that's turned us inside out and upside down._  

 _Now, don't freak out and stop reading. This isn't like a suicide note or anything like that. I know it sort of sounds like a final statement but just trust me here, okay? I just needed to tell you that you are my favorite person in the whole word. You're beautiful and smart and funny and my best friend and probably way better than I deserve. And I love you more than anyone. Ever._ _So,_ _there's that._  

 _This is where the secrets come in._ _The stuff I'm not supposed to tell anyone about._ _No one else on the team can know about any of this._ _No one can, really. Team or no team._ _I trust you, my beautiful gnome cleric._  

 _Keaton didn't fire me. (Ye_ _ah_ ,  _I lied. Shocked? Didn't think so.)_ _I don't even really know how to begin to explain myself or any of this but I'm going to try. You deserve answers. And I'm going to try really hard to give them to you._  

 _I took President_ _Botro's_ _phone. You know that. You all know that. You saw me on camera. And y_ _ou were supposed to see me. I hope you'd know me well enough to realize I would never look directly into a security camera_ _lens_ _while on a covert op. I would have kept my head down with my hoodie up. I'm not dumb._   _The phone was immaterial._ _We didn't care about it. At all._ _Keaton needed to (or maybe wanted to, I don't know) make a show in front of you guys. Let me "slip" up so he'd have to pull me from the task force. You know he never wanted me on it to begin with. He's been grooming me for another CIA role for months._  

 _I'm good at prying information from people._ _Information_ _they don't want to give._ _I can't lie about that. And you've seen me do it so there's no sense in being modest about it. I'm_   _damn_ _good at interrogations. We've discovered that I'm also pretty_ _decent at_ _under_ _cover. Remember the trafficking ring? And I was pretty good in Croatia too. Keaton thought so_ , _anyway_. _My cover as Julie Paige was perfect_ , _and now_ _Blake Crawford trusts me._ _That was important to Keaton and the CIA._   _And, just so you can stop wondering and worrying about your equipment (because I know you are and have been): my_   _comms_ _didn't fail. I_ _caused the failure_. _I'm sorry for that. I know it stressed you out but I was in that mansion for both the task force and the CIA. Don't hate me. (_ _And seriously, don't stress so much. You're beautiful, and you're getting this weird crease between your eyes from worrying and stressing.)_  

 _So, that's what I'm going to do. Keaton says I'm perfect for fieldwork. Undercover. He says that undercover fieldwork is for people who don't have anyone, like me. But to be undercover and in the field, no one can know._ _The hardest part of that is I don't feel like I don't have anyone. I've got you. Right? The most beautiful woman in every room. :-)_

 _I'm about to board a_   _plane. Reade thinks I'm about to sit down for a 14-hour CIA tribunal hearing. There's not hearing.  Don't tell him that._ _I can't really tell you where I'm going or what I'm doing but I promise I'm okay. I will do everything I can to make sure that I stay that way. I will come back, and maybe you'll accept my apologies and we can reset the clock? I really do love you and I hope that_ _some_ _day_ _we can go back to how we were. I guess we'll just have to see._  

 _Oh, another thing, and I'm not particularly proud of this but you're going to find out so I want you to find out from me:_ _I slept with Reade last night. And I broke it off with him this morning. I don't want you to hear about it in the office and think that here I am telling you that I love you while I’m running around, hooking up with Reade. I mean, that's what happened but it doesn't change how I feel about you. I don't want Reade like that. I just_   _needed closure with him. And that's a shitty way to do it but there it is. I need closure with you too but I'm not ready to close this book yet. So, I'm not going to. I'm going to tell you that I love you. I will come back and I will keep on loving you even if I can't be with you_. _I don't expect anything from you but I needed to tell you all of this. You deserve that. And_ _so_ _much more._  

 _Please don't try to reach out to me. I won't be able to answer._  

 _I love you so, so much._  

 _-Tasha_  

Tasha re-read the letter before folding it and shoving it into an envelope. She scrawled Patterson's first name across the front and sealed it before shoving it in her pocket. She collected her jacket from the chair she'd dropped it on and shrugged into it. She grabbed her suitcases, gave the apartment a final look, and stepped out the door. The cab she'd called was waiting at the curb and the driver stowed her luggage in the trunk for her while she climbed into the backseat.  

The cab came to a stop in front of Patterson's apartment building. Tasha handed the driver a $10 bill and asked him to keep the meter running and wait for her. She quickly climbed the stairs to Patterson's apartment. The scientist would still be at work. She pulled the envelope from her pocket and studied it for a few moments. She kissed Patterson's name before sliding the envelope under the door and returning to her waiting cab.  

*** 

It was going to be at least 18 hours before Jane, Weller, and Reade were standing on South African soil. While they traveled, Patterson and Rich had done as much advance research as they could before finally calling it a night. Patterson unlocked her door and pushed inside. Something crunched under her foot and she looked down. An envelope. She bent and picked it up, seeing her first name printed on it in familiar handwriting. A slight lipstick stain marred the lettering and it smelled faintly of Tasha's perfume. She shut the door and tore the envelope open as she walked through her living room and dropped onto the couch. She didn't need to look at the signature at the bottom. There was no mistaking Tasha's jagged, clumsy looking penmanship.  

 _It's a Dear John letter_ , Patterson thought as she held the letter. She couldn't quite bring herself to read it. She'd spotted Tasha at the NYO earlier in the day and was a bit disappointed that the brunette hadn't stopped to see her.  Tasha was running. This letter was just her giving Patterson the kiss off. Her stomach clenched and she thought about just tossing the slip of paper in the trash and forgetting all about it. But she couldn't. Curiosity got the better of her and she started to read. Soon, she felt tears welling up in her eyes.  

Patterson finished the letter and read it again, the tears in her eyes finally spilling over. Tasha loved her and now she was disappearing. She set the letter down on the table and stared at the wall. She wanted to call Tasha or text her but Tasha had told her not to reach out. Didn't she know how hard that was going to be? Her next instinct was to shred or burn the letter. Tasha had told her lots of things that she knew she wasn't supposed to know about. The best way to keep it safe was to get rid of it. But she couldn't. Aside from an old worn out 96th Precinct t-shirt Tasha had left behind once, this letter was the last thing Patterson had that smelled like her. Sure, there were small gifts and cards she'd saved but this letter was different. She couldn't bear the thought of getting rid of it.  

She got off the couch and paced restlessly through the apartment. There were so many things she wanted to tell Tasha. That she had to tell her. And she couldn't. She wondered when Tasha had dropped off the letter. Maybe she could still call her. She didn't see the harm in calling or texting. It's not like Tasha had faked her own death and they were supposed to believe she was gone. They were supposed to believe that she'd been fired and was in her CIA tribunal. Fourteen hours. Where could Tasha possibly be going that she'd want them to believe that she was unavailable for at least 14 hours?  

Patterson pulled an atlas from her book shelf and flipped to a world map. If there was no tribunal meeting, she was definitely leaving the country. She could be anywhere, Patterson realized. Fourteen hours could get her to South Korea or China or India or Africa. She sighed. Tasha could be anywhere. Just the idea of not knowing where she was or when she might see her again made Patterson's heart race. She missed her already.  

"Forget it," she said suddenly and went back to the couch yanking her phone from her bag. She punched the speed dial for Tasha and let it ring. After four rings, the call was sent to Tasha's voicemail. 

"Hey, it's Tasha. I can't pick up or I'm screening my calls. You know what to do."  

"Tash, it's me," Patterson began in a rush. "I know you said not to reach out but I'm reaching out. I got your letter." She paused and thought quickly. "I had to call you. I love you, too. Be safe. Come back to me. I love you." 

She disconnected the call and sat back down. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind but all she could think about was Tasha. She'd spent so much of the last few months being angry with her and before that, pretending like she didn't care that Tasha had once again gone moon-eyed over Reade. Tasha was gone now and Patterson didn't know when she'd come back again. It seemed like wasted time. Her phone vibrated in her hand and she looked down at the screen.  _Tasha_.  

"Tash?"  

"Hey Patterson," Tasha said quietly. Her voice has a sad lilt to it but just the sound of it set Patterson's heart racing again. "Don't worry. I'm okay." 

"I know," Patterson replied. "I got your note. I just I know you said not to call but I had to." 

Tasha didn't say anything but Patterson thought she heard the sound of an airplane engine.  

"I get it, you can't talk," Patterson said. "Listen, I just wanted you to know that I love you, too. I hate that you're gone and that you can't just come over because I want my best friend here. I miss you already. But I understand. And I guess that’s it." 

Tasha sighed into the phone. "I miss you too. And I'll come back. I promise. But I have to go right now." 

Patterson nodded and realized that Tasha couldn't see her. "Okay," she said simply. And then Tasha was gone.  

Patterson felt her tears welling up again and she just let them come.  


	10. And the Box of Doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A large package was waiting below Patterson's mailbox when she entered her building. She wasn't expecting a delivery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! A Snapshot! So, yeah, I'm just gonna keep this story open and never mark it closed. In any case, this story and all of the "snapshots" work in concert with "Tattoos of Memories" so, yeah... This chapter takes place sometime after Chapter three of that work.

A large package was waiting below Patterson's mailbox when she entered her building. She wasn't expecting a delivery, and she crouched to inspect the brown box.  A sticker designated it as fragile and urged the delivery person to "handle with care."  Her danger radar started to go off and she briefly considered calling for a hazmat team to inspect the parcel before she even  brought it upstairs to her apartment. She spotted her building's superintendent rounding the corner and got to her feet.

"Did you happen to see how this package arrived?" she asked, gesturing towards the box. 

"UPS," the superintendent replied.  

"Actual UPS or just a guy in a brown shirt?" 

The superintendent rolled his eyes.  

"You're the most paranoid tenant in this building, Miss Patterson," he said. "UPS. Guy pulled up in a UPS truck and rolled in a big ol' hand truck full of packages. Including that one." 

"Thanks," Patterson said as the super walked away. She didn't think she was being paranoid. She worked for the FBI and had been blown up and shot at more times than she could count. This wasn't paranoia, it was simply an ounce of prevention. 

She stood about three feet from the package and took a visual survey of it. It looked like any other box that might be delivered by UPS.  _Or left behind by a lunatic_ , she thought. The mailing label was addressed simply to Patterson, no first name, but she didn't recognize the sender: TNS, Scotts Valley, California. She pulled out her phone to Google the address when it unexpectedly vibrated in her hand. Tasha.  

"Did you get it?" Tasha asked as soon as Patterson answered. 

"Get what?" 

Tasha sighed. "Really? It hasn't come yet? UPS tracking says it was delivered. Are you home yet?" 

"Wait," she said, glancing back at the package of potential death sitting on the floor beneath her mailbox. "You sent me something? A package?" 

"Yeah." 

"A big package?" 

"Sort of, I guess." 

"Did you address it just to Patterson?" 

"Yeah," Tasha said. She was starting to feel exasperated with Patterson's game of 20 questions. "I know how you feel about your first name. Did you get it?" 

"I think so," Patterson said slowly, turning back to the package and eyeing it warily.  

Tasha was silent for a second and then realized what her girlfriend was doing. "Oh my god," she said. "You're afraid to open it. You got a random package that you weren't expecting so you're downstairs analyzing the box." 

"I'm not analyzing the box," Patterson replied. 

"You are!" Tasha insisted. "I know you. You're standing there right now staring at it like it's a bomb or something. Did you want to call for a hazmat unit? I swear, Patterson, it's not. Just pick up the box and take it upstairs." 

Patterson took a step towards the package and studied it carefully again.  

"It's from you? You're sure?" 

"Yes!" 

"Okay," Patterson said finally. "I'll have to call you back. I need both hands to carry the box of doom." 

"Call me back," Tasha said, ignoring Patterson's comment. 

***

Patterson set the package down in the middle of her living room floor and stared at it. It hadn't blown up on her during the trip  up the stairs and it wasn't making any unusual beeping sounds. And if Tasha claimed to have sent it, then Patterson supposed she'd believe her. 

She pulled her Skeletool from her bag and sliced through the tape holding the box closed. She carefully parted the cardboard flaps and pulled out a small mountain worth of air pillows. Beneath the excessive packaging was a large rectangular object covered in brown paper. It was just slightly smaller than the outer box and Patterson had to struggle to pull it free of the carton.  She carefully tore the paper away and revealed a large framed print.

The night sky and mapped constellations appeared against a grey blue background. The words "Let's Not Be Friends" appeared just below the star map. Below this was Jane and Weller's wedding date and the location of their wedding reception. There was a line of latitude and longitude beneath this and Patterson wagered that if she looked it up, it'd be the exact location of the garden bench at the reception where she and Tasha kissed for the first time.  

Patterson stared at the print for a long moment in stunned silence before grabbing her phone and dialing Tasha's number. 

"You are so soft," Patterson said when Tasha answered the phone. 

"I told you it wasn't a box of doom," Tasha said. "I thought maybe it'd look nice over the bed." 

"Definitely," Patterson replied, picking the frame up and carrying it into the bedroom. She set it down on the bed and began pulling down the two prints that already hung over her bed. She'd find somewhere else for them later. "What made you do this now?" 

"Patterson." 

"Tasha." 

"What's the date?" 

"Um, I have no idea? The day after yesterday?" 

"What was yesterday?" Tasha pressed. 

"Seriously, Tasha, I have no idea," Patterson said as she tried to hang the print with one hand. "Oh hey, this looks great." 

Tasha didn't respond. 

"You're not going to tell me?" Patterson asked finally. She was silent as she considered the print. She finally saw it. "Oh." 

"Yeah, oh," Tasha said.  

"That's today." 

"That's today." 

Patterson sat down on the bed and looked back up at the print. "I am the worst girlfriend ever," she said. "I didn't even know." 

"It's okay," Tasha said. "I knew." 

"But I should have known. And I didn't get you anything." 

"You already did," Tasha said.  

"No, I didn't," Patterson objected.  

"I have you," Tasha replied. "That's enough." 

Patterson didn't respond right away. She felt a big dopey grin spread across her face. If she'd ever doubted Tasha's feelings for her, all doubts were gone now. "You  _are_ soft." 


	11. To Find Your Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patterson could still get some kind of gift and set it aside for the next time Tasha was in town. That made her feel a little better. It didn't make up for completely not knowing what day it was or that it was an anniversary but it still made her feel a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This probably could have gone with Chapter 10 but, ah well it didn't. This will probably be the last snapshot for a little while. Life is starting to get in the way and I really want to focus more on "Tattoos of Memories."

_And the award for worst girlfriend ever goes to...me!_ Patterson's mind screamed as she hung up the phone with Tasha. How could she have forgotten the day that she and Tasha first decided to date? Their first kiss! How? Okay, sure, they'd broken up once but obviously Tasha was still counting Weller and Jane's wedding as their starting point. It was technically still an anniversary. Patterson couldn’t believe she'd forgotten.

Tasha might have said she didn't need to get her anything but Patterson thought that was crap. Not the sincerity behind her girlfriend's words, but the idea of just not doing anything at all to commemorate the best thing that'd ever happened to her. It felt like a cop-out and she wasn't willing to do that. Tasha deserved to have a considerate girlfriend who got her thoughtful gifts on important occasions like anniversaries.

She sat on the bed staring at the star map Tasha had _custom ordered_ for her and was hit by the awful realization that she couldn't just order and send a gift to Tasha. Where would she even send it? Tasha was traveling. Patterson didn't even know where in the world she was. That thought made her feel even worse. But she'd be coming back soon, right? Tasha traveled but she didn't live abroad. She still lived in New York City. Just a few blocks away from Patterson, in fact. Patterson could still get some kind of gift and set it aside for the next time Tasha was in town. That made her feel a little better. It didn't make up for completely not knowing what day it was or that it was an anniversary but it still made her feel a little better.

***

A small box was waiting on the floor outside of Patterson's front door. Tasha had raised her hand to knock on the door when she spotted it and stooped down to pick it up. It was heavier than she expected. There was no address or return address on it. It was addressed simply to Natasha Zapata. She turned the package over in her hand. It clearly hadn't been delivered. There were no postal marks or mailing labels anywhere on the box. No, this package had been left here for her. She noticed the familiar handwriting on the box. Patterson had left this here.

She knocked on the door and got no answer. She waited several beats and then knocked again. When Patterson didn't answer the door, she called her name.

 _Where is she?_ Tasha wondered. She'd texted the blonde only a half hour earlier and made plans to come over. It wasn't like Patterson not to be home when she was expecting company. She fished her phone out of her pocket and dialed her girlfriend's number. After four rings, her call was sent to voicemail.

"You've found me but I can't take your call so you know what to do."

"Hey Patterson," Tasha began. "I'm outside your door but you're not here. Just wanted to make sure everything's okay. I'll, um, I guess I'll just wait for you."

Tasha disconnected the call and sat down on the floor, leaning her back against the door. She considered the box again. She inspected it carefully before using her thumbnail to slice open the tape that held the box flaps together. Inside was a wooden box with eight numerical dials on the top of the box. A single sheet of folded paper sat on top of the box. She removed the slip of paper and unfolded it. There was no mistaking Patterson's printing: _So you'll always fInd your way home. - P_

She turned the wooden box over and looked at it carefully. She shook it lightly and heard something rattle inside. Patterson had left her a puzzle box and it sounded like she'd left something inside of the box.

 _Of course Patterson would leave me a puzzle_ , Tasha thought. She tested out the numerical dials. They turned easily and each dial went from 0 to 9. If she could figure out the number combination, the box would open. She thought for a minute and then began turning the dials. She tried her birthday. Nothing. She tried Patterson's birthday. Nothing. She hesitated and tried the date of their first kiss. Nothing.

"Dammit, Patterson," Tasha groaned in frustration. She set the box down on the floor and looked away. She wasn't going to get this box open and there was still no sign of Patterson. She picked up her phone and texted.

**Where are you?**

There was no response from Patterson.

**Are you okay? I'm at your place and you're not.**

No response.

Tasha sighed again and picked the puzzle box up. She had to be overthinking this. Patterson wouldn't have left the box behind if it was impossible to open. It had to be a combination Tasha would know. She reset the dials to 0 again and remembered the note Patterson had left with the box: _So you'll always fInd your way home. -P_

"Okay, think like Patterson," Tasha muttered. "Why would she underline home?" Then it hit her. It was so simple. She began turning the dials again. When she reached the last number, there was a soft click. The box was open.

"It couldn't be that simple," Tasha said incredulously. The combination had been home. 192.16.1.1. She looked at the note again. It'd been staring her in the face the whole time. Patterson had capitalized the only "I" in her note and had included the first initial of her last name in addition to underlining "home." She'd made it so simple for her. The IP address for home.

She lifted the lid off the puzzle box and looked inside. A silver keychain with a single gold key attached lay inside. She lifted the keychain from the box and looked at it curiously. It had what looked like a bottle opener along one side, and a line of latitude and longitude was engraved on it.

She had a good idea where the latitude and longitude might point to but she pulled out her phone again and launched her maps app. She entered the coordinates into the search field. She smiled when she saw the results and shoved her phone back in her pocket. Tasha turned back to the door and knocked one last time before using the gold key on the keychain and fitting it into the lock. She turned it and pushed the door inwards.

Patterson was in the kitchen stirring something that smelled fantastic. In all the time they had been together, Tasha had hardly seen Patterson make anything more than a cup of noodles, coffee, and a bowl of cereal. Seeing her now in an apron and wielding a spoon wasn't the funny part. It was the mess she was covered in and surrounded by. Patterson looked up when she heard Tasha's stifled laughter as she entered the kitchen.

"What's so funny?" the blonde asked, turning away from the stove.

Tasha covered her mouth with her hand and tried to wipe away the smile and disguise her laughter.

"Nothing. I've just never seen you cook before. I didn't think you knew how."

"I know how! I just choose not to. I can order everything I want and have it delivered," Patterson explained turning back to the pot she was stirring.

Tasha walked up behind Patterson and wrapped her arms around her waist. She kissed her neck and peeked into the pot.

"Well, it smells terrific," she said.

Patterson turned the burner off and set the spoon down on a saucer. She turned to face Tasha again.

"You finally figured out the puzzle, huh?"

Tasha held up the keychain and smiled.

"Thanks for making me feel stupid," she said. "I tried every number I could think of before I realized you'd pretty much given me the answer in your note."

Patterson laughed. "I tried to make it easy!"

"You did. I was just overthinking it."

"Typical."

Tasha turned the keychain over in her hands and ran her fingers over the engraved coordinates.

"So..." she began and trailed off. "What's this for?"

"It's a key. It opens doors," she said with a smile as she reached into the pocket of her jeans. Her fingers came into contact with a keychain that matched Tasha's and she started to pull it out. "Well, one particular door really. Mine."

"I noticed. But why?"

Patterson's smile faltered. She'd made a terrible mistake. What if Tasha hadn't wanted a key? She released her grip from the keychain in her pocket.

"I just thought... It doesn't have to mean anything," she said quickly, grabbing for Tasha's key. "I just thought it'd be good if you had a key... Don't you want a key?"

Tasha pulled the key away from Patterson's reaching hand.

"No," she said and realized that Patterson misunderstood. "I mean, yes. Don't take it back. I want it. Thank you."

Patterson nodded and turned back to the stove. She picked up the spoon again and stirred before realizing that she'd already turned the heat off. She didn't know what to say to Tasha. This was supposed to be romantic. She was making dinner and had a very expensive bottle of red wine breathing on the counter. She'd given her a key to the apartment on a keychain engraved with the latitude and longitude of her home and hidden it in a puzzle box that needed to be solved using "home." The keychain even matched the one in her own pocket. When held side by side, the bottle opener edges formed a heart. Patterson was usually shy about giving away copies of her key. She'd been nearly living with David but she'd never even considered giving him a key until he made an issue of it.

Tasha saw Patterson's shoulders slump slightly and she put a hand on the blonde's shoulder.

"Hey," she said softly. "What's wrong?"

Patterson shook her head but didn't turn back to face Tasha. "Nothing."

"Patterson."

Patterson sighed and turned back to face the brunette.

"This was supposed to be romantic. Dinner, wine," she said and pulled the keychain out of her own pocket. She grabbed Tasha's key and held the two keychains side by side to form a heart. "I gave you a key."

Tasha stared at the shape formed by the two keychains. It _was_ romantic. She'd ruined Patterson's sweet gesture by asking what the key was for. She knew what the key was for. She put a hand over Patterson's hands that still held both keychains and kissed her gently on the lips.

"It is romantic," she said. "I'm sorry I ruined it."

"You didn't ruin it," Patterson insisted. "I did. I guess I wasn't clear with the key."

Tasha arched an eyebrow in response but said nothing.

"I mean, you gave me this beautiful print of the night sky from the night we first kissed and I wanted to do something for you. So..."

"The key."

"The key." Patterson hesitated. "I know it's not a big thing but it is for me, and you're my girlfriend and you should probably have a copy of the key."

"It is a big thing," Tasha agreed.

"Ok, so it's a key," Patterson said again. "It's for my front door and you want it, right?"

"I want it."

"Good. Okay." She turned back to the stove and turned the burner back on. She opened the oven door and stole a look inside. "This will be ready in a minute. Do you want to pour the wine?"

Tasha kissed Patterson's neck again sending a shiver down the blonde's spine. She grabbed the open bottle from the counter and poured two glasses and carried them to the table Patterson had painstakingly set.

Dinner was delicious. It tasted even better than it smelled. Tasha sat back in her chair and drank her wine. She caught Patterson's eyes and held them, giving her a smile.

"If I had known you could cook like that, we wouldn't order out so much," she said. "I might never let you go now."

"Don't get used to it," Patterson said. "That's special occasion stuff right there. I mean look at this mess!"

Tasha laughed. "I'll help you clean up," she said as she reached across the table to wipe tomato sauce from a strand of Patterson's hair. "You're not supposed to wear it."

"That's not how it works?" she joked. "I've been doing it wrong all this time!"

Tasha finished her wine and set the glass back on the table.

"About that key," she said and held up a hand when Patterson started to interrupt. "I was thinking —"

"Tash, you don't have to say anything."

"I was thinking," Tasha continued, ignoring Patterson's objection. "My lease expires soon. What if I let it?"

Patterson shook her head. "But where would you live then?"

Tasha didn't respond. She watched and waited as Patterson put the pieces together.

"Oh," she said. "Oh!"

"What do you think?"

Patterson didn't respond for a long minute and Tasha thought perhaps her girlfriend wasn't ready to take this step. That would be okay and she'd understand completely. She didn't want to push Patterson into anything she might not be ready for. This might all be happening too quickly. She got up from the table suddenly and collected their empty plates, carrying them to the kitchen. Tasha turned in her chair to watch her.

"What about all your stuff?" Patterson asked finally.

"What stuff?"

"Your furniture and stuff."

"That's the nice thing about living out of suitcases," Tasha said. "I don't have a lot of stuff. And whatever I can't fit here or we can't use, I'll put in storage." When Patterson didn't respond Tasha continued. "If you're not ready, that's ok. I don't have to —"

"No," Patterson said. "I want you here."

Tasha got up and joined Patterson in the kitchen. She grabbed both of the blonde's hands and studied her face carefully.

"Are you sure?"

Patterson freed her hands from Tasha's grasp and brought them to the sides of the other woman's face. She kissed her hard, deepening it when Tasha moaned against her lips and brought her own hands to the blonde's waist. When they finally separated Tasha was smiling.

"Was that a yes?"

"When can you move in?"


End file.
